PART TWO OF THREE: THE NOT GOOD ENOUGH SERIES

A plain explanation of a remarkable therapy, and the reason it reaches what talking alone often can’t.

If you’ve found your way here, there’s a good chance someone you trust sent you. In more than twenty-five years of practice, the great majority of the people who come to see me arrive because a friend, a family member, or a colleague has experienced something in a session that they couldn’t quite put into words, but couldn’t stop talking about. That kind of referral is the most valuable endorsement I know. It means the work speaks for itself.

Which is fortunate, because the word “kinesiology” doesn’t always do it justice.

It’s one of those terms that can sound either vague or hard to pin down from the outside, and the descriptions you find online don’t always help. So let me explain it the way I would if you were sitting across from me, plainly, openly, and without any unnecessary complexity.


Where kinesiology comes from

Kinesiology has its roots in the work of Dr George Goodheart, an American chiropractor who in the 1960s made a discovery that would quietly change the way we understand the body. He was building on the muscle testing methods that physiotherapists had already developed to assess patients recovering from polio — tests designed to measure physical strength. What Goodheart noticed was that these tests were revealing something far more significant.

He found that disturbances anywhere in the body; physical, emotional, chemical or energetic, changed the way muscles responded. The muscle test, he realised, was less a measure of how strong you were and more a window into the state of your nervous system. That insight became the foundation of Applied Kinesiology, and from it grew the many specialised forms of kinesiology practised around the world today.

Specialised kinesiology, which is the approach I practise, draws on that same foundation but weaves in a broader understanding of the emotional, psychological and energetic dimensions of human experience. It is not simply a physical therapy. It works with the whole person: body, mind, emotions and what I would call the deeper intelligence that holds them all together.


The difference between medicine and kinesiology — and why both matter

I want to be clear from the outset that kinesiology is not a replacement for medical care. Allopathic medicine, the evidence-based, scientifically rigorous system most of us grew up with, is extraordinary at what it does. It identifies what is happening in the body, understands how a condition develops and progresses, and provides treatment and relief. For acute illness, injury, diagnosis and crisis, it is irreplaceable. I have enormous respect for it.

But there is a question that conventional medicine is not always designed to answer.

Why?

Why did this condition develop in this person, at this particular time in their life? Why does the symptom keep returning after treatment? Why does one person develop anxiety, and another doesn’t, even when their circumstances look similar?

Medicine tends to ask: what is happening, and how do we address it?

Kinesiology asks: why is this happening, and what does the body need to resolve in order to truly let it go?


A personal story

I learned this distinction personally, long before I fully understood it professionally. Years ago, I developed a persistent pain in my right hip. My doctor quite reasonably suggested anti-inflammatories. Her approach was: if the pain resolved, we would know inflammation was the cause. But I was still left with my question – why the inflammation? I took that advice and also worked with a physiotherapist whose treatment helped… for a while!

But the pain kept coming back… WHY?

When I eventually explored the issue through kinesiology, what emerged had nothing to do with my hip in isolation. What the body was holding was emotional; feelings I had never fully acknowledged around motherhood, the weight of wanting to be a good mother, and a deep, unspoken sense of inadequacy around this new precious role. The stress of carrying those unexpressed feelings had been placing a burden on my body that no amount of physical treatment could resolve, because the source wasn’t physical.

Once those emotions were identified and released, the hip pain went away. And it didn’t come back.

That is the difference between treating a symptom and finding the cause.


The subconscious mind — the critical distinction!

This is where I need to introduce a distinction that I think is one of the most important things to understand about this work.

We tend to think of our thoughts, choices and behaviours as conscious; as things we are actively deciding. In reality, research in neuroscience and cell biology suggests that as much as ninety-five percent of our daily functioning is driven not by conscious thought, but by the subconscious mind. The programs running quietly beneath the surface. The patterns, beliefs and survival strategies that were laid down in early childhood, often before the age of seven, and have been running automatically ever since.

This is why you can understand something perfectly and still not be able to change it.

You can know exactly where your anxiety comes from. You can identify the relationship pattern, the self-critical voice, the tendency to put everyone else first. You can be articulate and self-aware and have done real work in therapy. And you can still wake up anxious, still brace through your days, still feel, in quiet moments, that you are not quite enough.

This is not a failure of intelligence or willpower. It is simply the nature of the subconscious mind. Talk therapy, for all its genuine value, works primarily in the realm of the conscious mind — with thoughts, language, narrative and understanding. And the patterns that cause us the most suffering are not stored there. They are held in the subconscious: in the nervous system, in the body’s tissues, in the emotional memory that lives not in our thinking but in our cells.

Kinesiology is one of the few modalities designed to work directly at that level.

What muscle testing actually is

The central tool of kinesiology is muscle testing, and it’s worth explaining clearly, because it is both simpler and more interesting than it might sound.

Muscle testing is not a test of physical strength. It is a communication tool. A way of accessing information held in the subconscious mind and the nervous system; information that the conscious mind may not be able to reach, or may have long forgotten.

In practice, gentle pressure is applied to a muscle, usually the arm, while we hold a thought, a memory, a question or a feeling in awareness. The muscle’s response gives us a reading of how the nervous system is responding to that stimulus. When the system is calm and resourced, the muscle responds one way. When it is under stress, when it has encountered something it is still braced against or conflicted with, it responds differently.

We already know, intuitively, that the body speaks to us; that a memory can tighten the stomach, that fear dries the mouth, that we sometimes “knew in the gut” long before the mind caught up. Muscle testing simply makes that body-knowledge accessible. It allows us to find what is being held beneath conscious awareness, often with a precision that surprises people, including, sometimes, themselves.

The body, in my experience, does not lie. It shows us what is actually there, not the story we have been telling ourselves about it. Your distress is not who you are.


Why the body holds on — and how it lets go

The reason unresolved stress, emotion and trauma stay in the body is not a mystery. It is biology.

When we experience something frightening or overwhelming, the nervous system activates its survival response, fight, flight, or if neither is available, freeze. This response is designed to be temporary: in animals, it discharges naturally once the threat has passed, through movement, trembling, and a return to rest. In humans, particularly children in overwhelming situations, that discharge is often interrupted. The energy that was mobilised for survival has nowhere to go. And so, it stays unresolved and held in the nervous system, in muscle tissue, in the body’s ongoing vigilance, sometimes for decades.

This is why a woman in her forties can intellectually understand that she is safe, worthy and loved, and still feel in her body as though she is not. The nervous system is not being irrational. It is faithfully completing a response it was never able to finish.

What kinesiology does, through muscle testing and a range of gentle techniques, is help the body find the specific places where it is still holding on and provide the resolution to signal that it is finally safe to let go. Clients describe the shift in various ways; as an insight, a recalibration, a release or a physical experience: a breath that finally drops all the way down. A tension releasing that they had assumed was simply part of who they were.

It isn’t who they are. It is what they have been carrying.


What kinesiology can and can’t do

People come to me for many reasons; anxiety, stress, pain, autoimmune conditions, sleep, exhaustion, depression, low self-worth, relationship difficulties, the sense that old patterns keep repeating no matter how hard they try. The commonality in almost every case is stress held in the body, and a subconscious pattern running beneath conscious awareness that talking alone hasn’t been able to reach.

I want to be clear and responsible: kinesiology is a complementary therapy and while it works as part of your integrative health plan it is not a medical diagnosis, and it is not a substitute for your doctor, for psychological support, or for crisis care. If you are unwell or in distress, please reach out to the appropriate professional first. What I can say is that this work sits beautifully alongside other forms of care, supporting the body and mind in wholeness.


An invitation

If you’ve read this far, there is probably something here that has resonated with you. Perhaps you recognise yourself in the description of patterns that haven’t shifted despite your best efforts. Perhaps someone you trust has suggested this might be the missing piece.

The best way to know is simply to experience a session.

I work with clients in person in Sydney and online, and I am always happy to have an initial conversation to explore whether this work is the right fit for where you are. You don’t have to keep carrying what you’re carrying. Your body has been holding it faithfully, waiting, in its quiet way, for a safe moment to set it down.

This work is simply a way of giving it that moment.


More in this series

If this has resonated, I’d love to hear from you — or continue reading with Part Three of this series.

Book a session · Order The Gift of Self-Worth · Read Part Three

More in this series